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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25750630">sharp and sour and sweet</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dexdefyingstunts/pseuds/dexdefyingstunts'>dexdefyingstunts</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Choking, F/M, Food Sex, Hair-pulling, Movie: Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl, Penis In Vagina Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 03:49:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,228</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25750630</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dexdefyingstunts/pseuds/dexdefyingstunts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jack and Will arrive and sneak into the treasure trove, Barbossa and his crew are long gone- and so is Elizabeth.</p><p>Or; the one where Barbossa breaks the zombie curse and proceeds to rape Elizabeth over the dining room table on the Black Pearl.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hector Barbossa/Elizabeth Swann</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>sharp and sour and sweet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Look, there's not nearly enough "ravished by pirates" in this fandom, and that one dining room scene in Black Pearl is so full of kink potential??? So I just had to.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Elizabeth’s blood spills onto the coins, and her heart is pounding in her chest. Any second now, they’ll discover that she’s no Turner at all, and then there will be no reason left to keep her alive. Barbossa’s hand tightens around her wrist, and she looks up into his face, which, to her shock, is twisted in pain. Elizabeth wrenches her arm away, and the cavern is filled with the low groans and grunts of the crew, all wearing similar expressions.</p><p>She takes one step back, then two, then Barbossa’s eyes flash open. When he speaks, his voice is raspy and hoarse. “Thankin ye, Miss Turner.” He pulls from inside his coat- what else- a shiny green apple, which he proceeds to take a giant, triumphant bite out of. Mouth still full, he lets out a laugh that echoes around the cave, which is multiplied as the rest of the pirates join in, having broken the curse at last.</p><p>When Jack and Will arrive and sneak into the treasure trove, Barbossa and his crew are long gone- and so is Elizabeth.</p><p>The pirates lock her back in the same room she was in before. From the noise outside, she can only guess they must be having some kind of raucous celebration. There’s shouting, and singing, and eating, at least one fight and what appears to be several barrels of strong drink flowing freely. Elizabeth sits in the cabin, wondering how the curse could have been broken if it required Turner blood, and wondering what will be done with her now.</p><p>At one point, the same two pirates from before stop by to tell her she’ll be dining with the captain again. This time, she only nods. She’s still wearing the ridiculous red dress, stupid, huge, restrictive thing, so there’s no need for her to dress for dinner. The festivities outside show no sign of shutting down anytime soon as she’s led back to the stately dining room.</p><p>“Ahh, Miss Turner. I hope ye will be acceptin me hospitality one more time.”</p><p>Barbossa is seated at the head of the long table, which is once again heavily laden.</p><p>Elizabeth does not move. “And what happens after that, Captain Barbossa?”</p><p>“Wait and find out, Miss Turner,” Barbossa says. “Now sit,” and an edge creeps into his voice.</p><p>Elizabeth takes her seat at the table, and once again begins to eat. Her food does not seem to be poisoned this time either, and she is hungry, having once again not eaten for nearly a whole day. This time, however, Barbossa joins her, and his own voracious appetite outpaces her own.</p><p>“Ye see,” he tells her “ye must be hungry, not eaten in hours, no need for manners, ye must be starvin. I’ve not eaten in ten years, and shant stand on manners for the rest of me life.”</p><p>Elizabeth somewhat doubts Barbossa had any manners before the curse, but doesn’t say so. She debates the merits of trying to stab him again, now that she might actually kill him. His earlier point stands- he might be dead then, but she’d still be stranded in the middle of the ocean on a ship full of pirates. Anyway, he seems to have learned his lesson: she doesn’t see any knives on anywhere on the long table.</p><p>Finally, Barbossa has eaten his fill, for now, and pushes back from the table.</p><p>“Now, Miss Turner, to yer earlier question.”</p><p>He walks down the long length of the dining table. To Elizabeth, it hardly seems long enough, as he comes closer and closer, till he’s looming over her where she sits.</p><p>She finds her voice. “You said there was no sense in killing me until the curse was broken. The curse is broken now.”</p><p>Barbossa laughs. “Are ye in such a hurry to die, Miss Turner?”</p><p>She shakes her head, and forces herself to tilt her head up and meet his eyes.</p><p>His voice softens slightly. “I’d take no pleasure in killin ye, Miss Turner. Wouldn’t gain me nothing by it. But I find you to be most… pleasurable company.”</p><p>She jerks back in her chair, but finds she hasn’t very far to go. Barbossa leans over her, one hand against the heavy wooden table, and with the other, cups his fingers gently around the side of her neck. Elizabeth’s heart is racing again, and she’s sure he can feel it, the way her pulse beats.</p><p>“So warm,” Barbossa murmurs, “haven’t felt the warmth of a woman’s skin in ten years.”</p><p>His eyes trail down her body, lingering on her breasts, her hips. She’s properly clothed, but feels more naked then she had in her nightgown as his eyes pierce through her. It’s worse than being in her smallclothes on the dock, in front of God and Jack Sparrow and everybody. She fixes her eyes on a point at the far side of the room, the detailing on one of the windows, determined not to look at him.</p><p>Elizabeth doesn’t know what to do. She learned her lesson last time, even if she beats Barbossa there’s the whole crew right outside the door and God only knows what they’d do with her- but she risks a glance at him and he’s <em>leering</em> again and she can’t stand it, his horrible breath on her face, and she kicks out. He lets out a shout of pain and surprise and she ducks under his arm, around the chair, shoving it back towards him and runs, runs to the other side of the table, the other side of the room. She knows there’s no point but she has to get away from him, she has to try-</p><p>A rough hand grabs her by the arm and pulls, and she trips, falls. Barbossa grabs her on the way down, pulls her close to him.</p><p>“Now that was a stupid thing to do,” he growls. “Stupid, making me angry like tha’. Yer a pretty gel, but ye got no sense. Demandin to parlay, stabbing me wit a butter knife, an’ now this. Ye must have a death wish, Miss Turner.”</p><p>She struggles in his grasp, but it’s no use. He gets his fingers around her neck again but this time he squeezes. Barbossa leans in close to her, whispers directly into her ear.</p><p>“I already told ye what happens if ye don’ behave, Miss Turner. Pintel and Ragetti assured me they informed you. I know ye wouldn’t like tha, Miss Turner, bein turned over to the likes o’ them. I could ‘ave you stripped an’ tied to the mast, fer anyone to ave a go at. Think ye could handle that, do ye?”</p><p>He relaxes his hold on her throat slightly, but doesn’t let go.</p><p>“Beg me not to,” he growls into her ear. “Beg me to keep you in here, away from them.”</p><p>She shakes her head frantically, but he only squeezes again.</p><p>She desperately tries to breathe, mouth hanging open uselessly, thrashing in his grasp, but there’s spots appearing in her vision and his grasp is like iron.</p><p>He releases his hold on her throat, drops her, and her knees buckle, hitting the ground with an ugly <em>thud </em>as she gasps for air.</p><p>Barbossa lets out a dark chuckle, still looming over her, gets his fist tangled in her hair and <em>pulls</em>. She yelps, trying to twist out of it, but he grabs her arm and <em>twists,</em> pulls it up behind her back, and every move she makes away from one of his hands causes the other to hurt her.</p><p>He drags her over to the table and bends her over it, slamming her down, knocking her forehead into the heavy wood, hard enough to bruise. He wrenches her arms behind her, trapping her hands between them. She can feel him pressed up against her back, and he leans down, putting some of his weight on her, and she tries to move but he’s too heavy, his grip on her wrists too tight.</p><p>He growls, moving against her. “I’ve waited too long for this, an’ you won’ keep me from it, understand? I’d prefer you survive the process, but if you don’t want to, that can be arranged.”</p><p>Elizabeth tries not to whimper, frightened by his words and by his hot breath in her ear, but she’s not sure she entirely succeeds because he lets out a low, evil laugh.</p><p>She feels something wrap around her wrists- his belt, she realizes- and it’s too tight, she’s losing feeling in her hands. She kicks out at him like a stubborn mule, and feels his fist knock into the back of her head, her neck wrenched to the side, her ears ringing.</p><p>“Stay. Down.”</p><p>It’s a low, guttural growl in her ear.</p><p>He grabs her by the hair again, yanking up painfully, then slamming her head back down into his own dirty plate half-full of food. She coughs and splutters, blinking as she feels sauce run heavy into her eyelashes, tries to squirm her face around so she can breathe without inhaling something.</p><p>Barbossa yanks her dress up till it’s all around her middle, and she feels the cold air on her bare cunt. He pulls her legs apart and she tries to fight it, but she’s getting tired now, and she can’t take a full breath in. Her body goes limp, and he pushes one of her knees out to the side easily, pinning it against the table. She pulls her head up slightly, and it feels so hard to do. She twists just enough to roll her head out of the plate and onto the table. Barbossa lets her. He allows the small, feeble movement beneath him, apparently satisfied with the way the rest of her has gone pliant and yielding.</p><p>Barbossa leans against her to keep her in place, and she feels him against her bare skin, his rough trousers pulled down just enough to let his hard cock push up against her. She can’t see what he’s doing but she’s not sure which would be worse, to have to see what he’s doing to her, or to not know what’s coming next. His cock ruts up against her ass, moving up and down, and she twitches, instinctively clenching, though she knows it’s no use.</p><p>“Ten years,” Barbossa says again, voice low and gravely. “Can ye imagine, bein deprived that long? What that would do to ye?”</p><p>He settles one hand solidly around the back of her neck, keeping her steady.</p><p>And then he slides his cock into her.</p><p>Elizabeth screams. She has no strength left to fight, but this <em>hurts</em>, oh God, it hurts, and she can’t think, can’t help but try to push away from the pain. Barbossa tightens his grip around her neck and presses his body against her again, pinning her down with his weight. Her legs try to kick out but just jerk around, uselessly.</p><p>Barbossa groans. “Argh, that’s it, that’s it lass, let me in.” He starts moving, slowly, pulling hips back a fraction and then forward the same amount.</p><p>Elizabeths starts sobbing, unable to stop herself, tears leaking onto the wood of the table. Barbossa seems to take no notice, and starts moving deeper, giving her more of his length, cursing under his breath. Elizabeth’s whole body is shaking, wracked with sobs, hysterical, unable to stay still or to fight in any kind of useful way. He presses all the way forward, fully sheathed inside her, and she can feel his hips up against her, and he lets out a low moan, the nails of his free hand digging into her leg, his other hand tightening around her throat.</p><p>“Good girl,” he gasps.</p><p>Barbossa moves faster now, harder, and every thrust slams his body against hers and her body against the table. All she can see is the remains of their dinner, bones and apple cores and beautiful silver platters. She stares into the soup tureen and sees her own face stare back, distorted, smeared with bits of food and brown gravy, dripping with sweat and tears and a bit of blood from where she’s scraped her face against the table. She looks a mess. She looks absolutely destroyed. She can’t bear to look at herself any longer, and lets her eyes lose focus, all the silver and gold swimming together into a glinting blur. It still hurts, but now all the hurts start to blend together- her poor aching cunt, her head where it knocks against the table, her fingers that are almost entirely numb, now, the places where his fingers press into her throat, until she’s floating away from it all. Floating on the gleam of silver and the dull rush of pain.</p><p>Barbossa let out a harsh growl, and slams all the way inside her again before going still. Lying there, boneless, underneath him, Elizabeth can only hope he’s finished. They stay there for a long moment.</p><p>He pulls out of her slowly, and she can feel his seed dripping out of her, pooling on the table, falling onto the floor, mixed with her own maiden’s blood which trickles down her thigh.</p><p>“Ye see, Miss Turner,” Barbossa says, words rough and low, whispered into her ear, still hovering over her wrecked and ruined body where she lays between the serving dishes, “there be no use in fightin me.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please leave a comment if you liked it!!</p><p>Also feel free to come yell at me on <a href="https://dexdefyingstunts.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a>!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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